For Pukingranebows

Kurt and Blaine were not together. In fact, the kiss at the Christmas party seemed to roll right off of Blaine, and it was never mentioned again. Not even after Blaine got hammered at Santana's house on New Year's Eve and spent the whole ride back to Kurt's house singing Part of Your World loudly and very off key. He'd cuddled up to Kurt in his bed at the end of then night, mumbling, "Kurt. Kurty Kurt Kurt. I wan' you t' be my-my Ariel," and promptly fell asleep.

It was now March, and Kurt was getting snippy with the slush outside and the dirty, wet socks Finn left in the hallway. It was a Wednesday afternoon when he snapped.

Kurt had two tests the next day in his worst subjects, he'd woken up late, and the hockey team had decided that today was a good day to mass-attack him with slushies. After all of this, Blaine had still insisted on coming over, which wouldn't have been too bad if Blaine wasn't sitting there, playing his harmonica and being all beautifully distracting while Kurt was trying to study.

"Knock it off," Kurt snapped, and the music promptly stopped, Blaine looking up at him in confusion. "I can't concentrate when you're doing that."

"Do you need help?" Blaine asked, hopping up onto Kurt's bed like a god damn puppy. "Oh! I did this last year!" Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Of course you did," he grumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're God damn Blaine Anderson, everyone's favorite, unofficial leader of the Warbler's, straight-A student, and overly adorable in that stupid blazer."

There was a moment of silence while Blaine stared at him in shock. Kurt immediately felt guilty—Blaine hadn't done anything wrong—but he couldn't find the words to apologize, he just blushed furiously and continued scribbling out his homework.

"Well first of all, I'm not a straight-A student," Blaine said. "I totally failed Biology. And secondly," Blaine paused. "You love the blazer," he said in a deep voice.

Kurt huffed in annoyance. Rationally, he knew that Blaine was probably just trying to lighten the mood, but for some reason Kurt was feeling pissy.

"I think you should leave," he said, not looking up from his work.


"Just go."

Blaine sat for a moment, stunned, then slowly got up, gathered his things, and left the room. He took one last look at his best friend, who hadn't even looked up, before closing the door softly behind him.


Blaine was nervous about that night. Friday was the night that he always spent with Kurt. Whether they were babysitting Addison, or seeing a movie, or analyzing Vogue in Kurt's bedroom. But they hadn't spoken since Wednesday, and Blaine didn't know if he should try to call him, or text him, or what.

So to say he was surprised to walk into his bedroom after classes that afternoon to find Kurt sitting on his bed was an understatement. He was leaning against the headboard, his bag on the bed next to him, and looked up when Blaine entered the room.

"Hi," he said quietly, and Blaine didn't miss the way his cheeks tinged a light pink as he looked back down at his hands. Blaine closed the door, dropped his bag to the ground, and sat at the foot of the bed.

"Hey," he said just as softly.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you the other day," Kurt said, looking up. Blaine smiled a little.

"I get it. You were stressed out and I was there. I'm not mad at you."

"Thanks," Kurt mumbled, his eyes casting down.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Kurt was silent. He looked up and tried to say something, but no words came out.

"Hey, in your own time," Blaine soothed, placing his hand on Kurt's knee. Kurt took a deep breath and started over again.

"Blaine, what are we now?" he asked, voice only a little shaky.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, dropping his hand to the matress.

"It's just... since we-we kissed at the Christmas party, I thought things were going to change, but they didn't. And I guess I'm okay with them not, but I just don't understand and you're the most important person in my life, Blaine. I don't want to lose you again, but it feels like I'm going to because I don't know what's going on between us and I'm just so, so confused, and... and..." Oh, god, Kurt felt like he was going to throw up, like he was breathing but the oxygen just wasn't cooperating with his blood.

"Hey, hey," Blaine shushed. He moved closer to Kurt, who had his arms wrapped around his torso as if he was holding himself together. Blaine pushed Kurt's bangs away from his face. "Look, Kurt," he continued, dropping his hands to Kurt's arms. "What happened at the party was my fault. It was a spur of the moment thing, and god, Kurt, I don't regret it. I'd wanted to kiss you since you showed up on that staircase at Dalton, but after it happened I was so scared, Kurt. I was scared. I thought that... that I would screw this up somehow, and I'd lose you. And I was okay with keeping things the way they were because then you would never disappear from my life again."

And then Blaine didn't even have time to look away in embarrassment before Kurt was leaning toward him, grabbing his face and covering his mouth with his own.

This kiss wasn't like the one they shared at the party. No, that one was short and sweet. This one was harder, hungrier. Kurt's hands were on either side of his face, and his hands were tangled in Kurt's hair. And holy hell that was Kurt's tongue licking at his upper lip right before he pulled away.

"You could never, ever screw this up," Kurt said, breath just as ragged as his own. Blaine smiled, and Kurt moved back. "I almost forgot," he cleared his throat. "I brought you something."

Kurt reached into his bag and pulled out a package of RedVines. Blaine's face lit up. Taking the candy from him, Blaine opened the bag, handing one to Kurt before taking a bite of his own. They chewed in silence for a moment before Kurt spoke up again.

"Okay, confession time," he said, laughter in his voice. Blaine smiled up at him. "These things are actually disgusting." Blaine laughed loudly, throwing his head back.

"They are, aren't they?" Blaine said, then proceeded practically throw himself at Kurt, wrapping his arms around the boy's torso and push him into a laying position.

They stayed like that for a long time, content to cuddle the afternoon away before Addison bounded into the room, holding up her case of Disney Princess dolls and saying, "Pleeeeeaaaaaase?"


When Kurt got home the next day, he began skipping around the living room, spinning in circles and belting A Dream Is a Wish Your Hear Makes. Finn picked up his bag of Doritos protectively while Burt laughed from where he sat in his chair.

"What's gotten into you, kiddo?"

"I'm in love!" Kurt exclaimed spinning around. "I'm in love, I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!" he spread his arms out wide, flinging his hat into the air.

"About time," Burt chuckled, turning back to the TV.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kurt asked, placing his hand on his hips.

"Kurt, there hasn't been a time since November when you've come back from bein' with Blaine and you haven't been on cloud nine. You don't think I notice these things, but I do." Kurt smiled. "And don't worry, he can still spend the night as long as you keep things PG. When there are other people in the house, at least."

"D-Dad!" Kurt spluttered, cheeks flaming, and Finn choked on a chip. Burt just laughed again.


"Dalton is too far away. Why are you so far away?"

"I know. But I'm coming over after school tomorrow."

"But that's nineteen hours away."

"Somehow, I think you'll survive."

"If I die before then you can put 'I told you so' on my gravestone."

"I'll make a note of it."


"You're adorable."

"Shut up."

"No way."

"Will you bring over a scary movie? I'm in a scary movie mood."

"You just want an excuse to cuddle me."

"As if I need an excuse."

"True, true."

"You know I laugh the whole time anyway."

"Of course you do. You just laughed so hard during Quarantine that you couldn't stop clinging to me the rest of the night."

"That man shouldn't have been alive, Blaine. They drilled a hole in his head."

"Alright, alright. Now go to sleep before you get nightmares."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Kurt."

"Goodnight, Blaine.


It was a Friday night in late April when he said it. In fact, he didn't even realize he had said it until he saw the way Kurt's head whipped up to look at him. But he didn't—wouldn't—take it back.

They had been sitting in Kurt's room, Blaine on the couch with his guitar, and Kurt laying on his stomach reading Entertainment Weekly.

"Ugh, why do people even still care about Brangelina? They're so 2005," he'd said. Blaine smiled. All he could think was how beautiful Kurt was, both inside and out, and how Blaine didn't want to miss a single moment of the rest of this boy's life. He wanted to be with him forever, to grow old with him, maybe adopt a child or surrogate. Or they didn't have to have any children at all, as long as they were together, as long as Kurt was still there, he would be okay.

"I love you," Blaine said, and he continued to strum softly. Kurt's head whipped up, looking at him with a mixture of shock and disbelief adorning his features before he grinned broadly.

"I love you, too."

Blaine set down his guitar and moved over to the bed. Kurt rolled over onto his back when Blaine climbed on top of him.

"Really?" he asked, forearms on either side of Kurt's head and knees bracketing his hips. Kurt smiled and wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck.

"Really, really," Kurt replied, pulling his boyfriend down into a kiss.

Dear lord, I think I need a dentist.